


Get Outta My Dreams, Get Into My Car

by Critrawkets



Series: I'd Sure Hate To Break Down Here [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex as a mechanic, Alex is too darn hot, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, George has a sweet car, George is insecure, Humor, M/M, Romance, Semi-Public Sex, coming out late in life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 19:21:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11019906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Critrawkets/pseuds/Critrawkets
Summary: When one has a gorgeous mechanic, there are several ways to go about spending more time with him.George just happens to go with the one that involves sabotaging his very expensive car. Over and over again.





	Get Outta My Dreams, Get Into My Car

**Author's Note:**

> I'm baaaaaack! I stumbled upon [this image](https://twitter.com/Lin_Manuel/status/741293665734250496) again, and immediately went 'someone needs to write a mechanic!au'. Turns out that someone was me

Alexander Hamilton has a good, steady, reliable job. At least, that’s what he’s trying to tell himself as he works on the third Dodge Caravan coated in cheeto dust and kool-aid this week. Being a mechanic in a small time shop has its advantages, sure. His hours are flexible, the shop owner is understanding and kind, and disinclined to fleece customers like many shops did. That said, what he wouldn’t give to get a little variety now and then. A Corolla with two doors instead of the family friendly four would be plenty exciting at this point. He puts his grumblings to himself away as he heads up front to hand the keys to the latest minivan back to its owner. Smiling agreeably at her as she exits, he’s suddenly frozen to the spot as he sees the car that pulls into the lot. It’s like his prayers have been answered, every automotive wet dream he’s ever had brought to life and dropped on his doorstep. The driver steps out: tall, dark, imposing, and well put together. The earlier wet dream metaphor suddenly seems much more apt. His boss and the receptionist both notice his intense concentration at the same time and share a knowing look.

“I don’t care what I have to do, Phil. You have got to let me take this one.”

Philip chuckles indulgently. “He’s all yours, kid.”

* * *

George Washington has a good, steady, reliable car. At least, that’s what he tries to tell himself as his cobalt blue McLaren 650s picks this day of all days, the afternoon after a disastrous meeting with a fractious client, to suddenly break down on his way home. He’s nowhere near his usual mechanic, and judging by the noises coming from the engine he probably shouldn’t risk trying to limp it there. He’s considering calling a tow truck when providence shines upon him and he sees the sign for a shop appear over the hill. He gratefully pulls into the lot, wincing at the last noise the McLaren makes as he kills the engine. As he walks into the shop he’s greeted by the bell over the door and a smiling receptionist. He puts aside his sour mood for her sake and approaches the desk.

“Good afternoon! What brings you in today?” she asks in a tone that passes obligational customer service speak into something more genuine. He’s glad he wiped the scowl off his face upon hearing her.

“Hi, I’m here because my car just started making some pretty alarming noises. It’s a McLaren, and I know those aren’t terribly common around here, but I don’t suppose you have someone who could take a look at it?”

“Certainly! Alex will be your man, let me grab him from the back.”

While she retreats to the shop proper, George has a look around the reception area. It has a homegrown business feel, certificates boasting excellent service posted proudly next to newspaper clippings with articles showcasing what must be the owner’s community involvement. There’s a lazy looking dog snoozing in the corner, and he crouches to give it’s chin a skritch. George rises as he hears noises signalling the receptionist’s imminent return. When she does, with who is presumably the mechanic in tow, his heart skips a beat.

The man is gorgeous. Long hair pulled messily back, intense brown eyes, a neatly trimmed goatee, white tank top partially hidden by denim coveralls- both articles of clothing showing signs of being well worn. George barely catches it as he introduces himself as Alex, pulling himself together enough to shake his hand and offer his name in return. Alex smiles, seemingly not noticing how flustered George is, or mercifully ignoring it.

“So, Peggy tells me that gorgeous McLaren out front is yours, and it’s making some scary noises?”

“Yeah it was very out of the blue. I’ve never had a problem with it before, I guess today it just had enough.”

This gets a laugh out of Alex, and damn his smile is as enchanting as the rest of him. “Well everyone’s entitled to their off days I suppose. Let’s go see what kind of whining it’s doing.”

George leads him outside and pops the hood when instructed. With how this day is going he half expects it to run perfectly just to embarrass him in front of the hot mechanic, but sure enough it makes the same godawful noise as before. Both he and Alex wince at it before Alex signals him to cut the engine.

“Well your earlier description of that noise being alarming is spot on. Lets push it into the shop and I’ll have a look. Could be a quick fix, so hang around a minute while I investigate.”

George is more than happy to stick around, but feels a little like he’s intruding on the mechanic’s space, so he starts to make his way up to the front.

“Don’t feel like you have to leave, you’re welcome to stay back here. Peggy has a tendency to sing along with the radio, and believe me you don’t want to be stuck up there if she does.”

This gets an indignant squawk from up front, followed by a slightly muffled  _ “I have the voice of an angel and you  _ **_know it_ ** _ Hamilton!” _

They share a laugh at that, and George settles at the end of a workbench near where Alex is working. He pokes around under the hood a little before speaking again, sounding a little bit in awe and a lot excited. “I’m sure it’s not exactly in your good graces right now, but damn this beauty is a far cry from the Toyota’s and Dodge’s I’m usually stuck servicing.”

_ Jesus, _ George thinks,  _ does he have to say  _ **_servicing_ ** _ bent over the engine like that? _ He clears his throat, composing himself enough to reply, “We might be a little friends off right now, sure. But it’s a damn nice car. Usually worth all the midlife crisis jokes I put up with at work.”

This gets another laugh from Alex, and George seriously doubts he’ll tire of hearing the sound. “I’d say. And hey, at least you got it in blue. It’s only truly a midlife crisis car if it’s orange.”

They fall into comfortable conversation after that, and before he knows it George has been there 45 minutes. Alex seems to notice this at the same time, and with a resigned sigh he extracts himself from under the hood. “Sorry to keep you here this long, I sort of lost track of time there. The usual suspects are not what is causing that noise so I’ll have to have a more in-depth look at it. If you leave your number with Peggy up front I can give you a call when I figure out what’s going on.”

“Sure, I can do that. And don’t worry,” George hastens to assure him, “I had nowhere to be and it was very interesting listening to you talk about engines. It’s not something I know a whole lot about.” 

This gets a bright smile out of Alex. “Well I’m glad. Hopefully I can get it all sorted sooner rather than later. Have a good night in the meantime.”

George gives him a suitable reply as he makes his way out of the shop, brain already on autopilot while he figures out how to get home, and how he’s going to get to work, and wonders how long it’ll be until he gets to hear that voice again.

He decides when he gets home that his car breaking down today may have been the best thing to happen to him all month.

* * *

George gets his phone call much sooner than he’s expecting to.

“Good news! I figured out what’s wrong with your car. Bad news: it’s gonna take me a week to get the part I need. And I promise I’m not just saying that so I can keep your car in my shop as long as possible.”

George huffs a resigned laugh into the phone, “Serves me right for owning an exotic car I suppose.”

“Hey, if you’re fed up and just want to leave it here with me for a bit to teach it a lesson, by all means. I’ll make sure she’s fed.”

“He.”

“He?”

George isn’t entirely sure what compelled him to make that correction, but there’s no backing out now. “...his name is Nelson.”

He can hear muffled laughter through the phone before Alex can reply, “I have heard a lot of names for cars over the years, but I don’t think I’ve ever come across a Nelson before.”

George tries to muster up a reply, but his usual dry wit fails him in the face of his unexpected embarrassment at being teased by Alex. The man once again takes pity on him, his tone apologetic as he rushes on, “Sorry, I’m being a jerk. I’ll have Nelson’s part in hand in a week or so, and should have him up and running a day or two after that.”

After hanging up the phone all George can do is lean back in his office chair and indulge in a moment of self pity.  _ You are the smoothest man alive Washington _ he thinks as he stares up at the ceiling. He makes a half-hearted attempt to focus back on his work, but something about the conversation just refuses to leave his mind. Out of the moment he thinks a little harder about Alex’s ribbing. Was it just conversational teasing, or did George miss an undercurrent that made it more flirtatious when he was busy being jittery? Now that the thought is in his head he has a hard time letting it go, and decides to just take a chance and ask the mechanic out.  _ What’s the worst that can happen? It’s not like you’re going to run into him elsewhere. _ Satisfied with his decision he gets back to work, hoping the next week doesn’t drag on.

* * *

The week, in fact, does not drag on, and before he’s quite ready for it George finds himself back in the little shop. He realizes that he’s not entirely present as he greets Peggy, nor as he gets the rundown on the repairs from Alex. All he can really focus on is the increasingly frantic chant going on inside his head.  _ Okay I’m going to do it, I’ve got this, it’ll be fine just ask him, just  _ **_ask_ ** _ him, oh god you’re running out of time ASK HIM ALREADY. _

“So...is there anything else I should be aware of?”

_ Coward. _

The drive home is spent berating himself six ways to sunday. What did he really expect though? The first time he tries to make a move on a man and he decides to take a chance on someone who in all likelihood is straight?  _ Get it together Washington. _

* * *

Another week passes, and try as he might George still can’t get the handsome, grease-stained mechanic out of his mind.  _ For god's sake Washington, you’re infamous for being the most dogged businessman in the city. There’s no deal you can’t close, but you can’t work up the nerve to ask one man out? _

Fuelled by his own annoyance at himself, he makes a decision. Before he can talk himself out of it, he makes a call to the shop. To his surprise, it’s Alex that picks up, not Peggy. He forces himself past that unanticipated detail, “Hey Alex, it’s George Washington.”

“George!” hearing how excited Alex seems to be to hear from him bolsters his confidence a little. “How is Nelson doing? I hope he hasn’t broken down on you again?”

“No, he’s running great, but I realized it’s about time for an oil change. You did such a great job on the repair I thought I’d see if you’d be willing to take care of that too?”

“I mean sure, of course,” now he seems taken aback, bringing forth a fresh wave of panic in George. “I’m a little bit in love with that car, but aren’t you only like three-quarters of the way there? I could be wrong but I usually check these things-”

“No, you’re right!” George hastens to assure him, “I just have a big trip coming up that will probably fall when it’s actually due. I thought I’d get on top of it instead.”

George is rather proud of his quick thinking, doubly so when Alex comes back with a relieved “Oh! Well that’s the kind of responsible car ownership I like to see then. I can book you in on Thursday afternoon if that works for you?”

“Thursday afternoon is perfect, I’ll see you then.”

He tries not to feel too smug as he hangs up the phone, but damn it he’ll take his victories where he can. 

* * *

Thursday arrives, and for all that George swears that he’s ready and calm and collected this time- the sentiment goes right out the window when he sees Alex looking a little worse for wear with his hair mussed up. He blames the heat in the shop, and after he runs his hands through his slightly sweaty hair George is struck with the thought of what it would feel like if it was his hands instead.

Alex thankfully breaks the train of thought before it gets out of hand. “Your oil change shouldn’t be too long, but I understand if you’d rather stay up here this time to avoid the heat back there.”

“I think given the options I’ll take a little heat over radio sing-alongs.” George says, keeping his voice low in deference to Peggy, who he can see hovering in his peripheral.

Alex snickers and nods solemnly, leading him back to his inner sanctum. In an effort to not lose his head this time, George wanders around the shop, taking in the details he hadn’t noticed before. It’s pretty sparsely decorated, none of the usual pin-up posters you’d expect to see. Instead, the only real source of clutter seems to be the hoards of books laying around. All of Alex’s tools are kept in neat order, the man obviously has a certain reverence for the tools of his trade, but the books sit in haphazard piles all around. A quick glance at the spines reveals them all to be automotive related: quick start guides, manufacturer anthologies, reference manuals, parts catalogues. 

The sheer number of them is a little astonishing, and Alex must see that feeling reflected on his face. He laughs a little sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck and says, “I know it’s a tad excessive. Half of the manuals are for cars I can only dream of seeing in the shop, but I like reading about them anyways.”

“It’s certainly worked out well for me. I’ve only found one other mechanic in the city willing to put his hands on Nelson and he’s…”

“A prick?”

“I was going to go with ‘somewhat full of himself.’” George says, amused.

“Well that sort of tact is why you wear the fancy suits and I wear the greasy coveralls. Cars don’t care as much when you call them names. Not that I would say a thing against dear Nelson here.”

The rest of the oil change passes in a similar fashion, comfortable easy conversation interspersed with the clever wit Alex possesses in spades. He throws out random bits of expertise as he goes about his tasks, and George quickly realizes he must have an encyclopedic knowledge about cars and what makes them run. Not to mention an impressive memory to bring all these facts forward at will.

Once again, the time passes with extraordinary speed, and George finds himself back at the front desk paying and working up the nerve to actually go through with his plans. Before he can say anything, the phone starts ringing, and with Peggy suddenly MIA Alex gives him an apologetic smile and answers it. Between his immediate wince and the yelling George can hear through the headset, he realizes the call isn’t about to end any time soon. He tries to give Alex his most sympathetic look as he goes to leave, getting a subdued wave in response.

At least this time it wasn’t entirely his fault.

George is putting fuel in his car, idly staring at the gas cap when inspiration strikes. When he’s done he makes sure to replace the cap as loosely as possible, and starts driving. He has nearly resigned himself to the idea that the warning is bullshit before the check engine light clicks on. Grinning, he turns towards the garage.

He pulls into the lot just as Alex is waving someone else off. As George steps out, Alex greets him with a vaguely worried expression. “You are having just about the worst luck with that car I have ever seen. Are you sure you don’t want to just abandon it here?”

“Don’t tempt me. The check engine light has come on, would you mind taking a look?”

“Of course. High tech car like this could just be having a fit. It happens sometimes when you have that many electronically controlled functions. I’ll run diagnostics on it and see what it comes back with.”

The next half hour passes much like their previous times together. George is determined to not get caught at the desk this time though, and is just opening his mouth to speak up when Alex barks out a sudden laugh.

“What is it?”

“Well I think I know what the problem is.” With that, he makes his way to the rear of the car, popping open the tank cover and giving the cap a turn until it clicks. George feels his face growing warm, he hadn’t accounted for the fact that he would look like a bit of a dunce at the end of this. He manages a shaky laugh. “At least it’s not something more serious I suppose.”

Alex nods, still obviously amused. “Always appreciate an easy fix. You don't get them all that often. Is there anything else you need?”

_ Your number. _

“No that should be it. Thanks again Alex. What do I owe you for your time today?”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I didn’t actually end up doing anything after all.” Alex says with a little dismissive wave of his hand.

“No I insist. Your diagnostics machine has to be ludicrously expensive and I just wasted half an hour of your time.”

This gets him an indulgent look. “Fine, let me commit highway robbery then.”

Yet again, George leaves the shop unsatisfied and more than a little frustrated.

* * *

Saturday finds George in his garage wrench in hand, hood raised, and youtube repair videos playing from his laptop perched on a stool nearby. He figures he can reverse what he’s watching somehow, and then have a less stupid reason to see Alex again. He’s so deeply focused he doesn’t hear Lafayette walk up the driveway until he’s right there and nearly yelling in George’s ear.

“What in gods name are you doing with that? Oh you are  **not** trying to fix your car yourself are you? You can afford a damn mechanic George!”

He gives his best friend of many years a withering look, suddenly wondering just why he’s kept him around this long. “Is there a reason you’re inside my garage randomly on a Saturday, or have you just come to chastise me for whatever I happen to be doing today?”

Lafayette casually leans against the car, gesturing to the open air as he speaks. “Adrienne is giving our beautiful, wonderful, darling children haircuts today. I couldn’t listen to them scream about it any more. But you’re dodging the question, what are you doing with that wrench?”

George can’t keep up the facade of his ire, and knows he soon looks guilty as hell. At Lafayette’s insistent look, he fesses up. “The guy that fixed my car a few weeks ago is...stunning. And smart as hell. And I’m running out of reasons to take my car to him so I’m trying to make one.”

“George, my friend, you know I adore you. But that is a several hundred thousand dollar car. I’m pretty sure escorts are cheaper if you’re that desperate.”

He doesn’t dignify that with a response, opting to glare as menacingly as he can instead.

“Oh don’t give me your scary businessman look, you know it doesn’t work on me. Why don’t you just go in and ask him to get a drink with you?”

“I can’t. I need a reason to go in first.”

George looks down at the wrench in his hand, suddenly self-conscious and feeling slightly ridiculous. Lafayette’s expression softens, “Alright I’ll give you a pass this time, but only because you came out a year ago and have yet to do anything about it. Pass me that hammer.”

* * *

They’re sitting back admiring their handiwork when Lafayette speaks up, “So what are you going to say when you take it in? ‘It was like that when I got here I swear?’”

George looks up suddenly at his friend, expression a little desperate. “Christ I hadn’t even thought of that.”

“Of course you hadn’t. Okay, here’s your story: You’re parked at a building where you do not have the greatest relationship with its occupants.”

“So outside Howe’s then.”

“Bingo. Just keying your car would gather too much attention, so they popped the hood and had at it. Wait, hand me that crowbar.”

George starts to do so without thinking, then hesitates. “Why?”

“We have to make your story believable.”

George almost has to look away as Lafayette pries the hood open. There’s something so wrong about gouging the outside of it like that.

* * *

“Well if it isn’t the unluckiest McLaren owner in all the land. What brings you in George?”

At that greeting George is very thankful to have a legitimate, if intentional, reason to be here this time. ‘Why don’t you come see for yourself.” he replies grimly.

Alex is clearly upset when he first gets a look at the damage, gasping and clutching at his heart dramatically. “Well, shit. Where in gods name did you leave him?”

“The parkade of some business contacts we have a less than genial relationship with right now. Couldn’t just key it, they had to get creative.” he replies, trying to sound a little dejected.

“I’m kind of personally offended here. Is nothing sacred? What did Nelson do to deserve this?”

Hearing Alex refer to the car by its name inexplicably makes George warm all over. It’s such a small, silly detail, but the fact that he seems determined to stand by the naming convention of his own volition feels oddly nice. They bring the car into the garage together, but this time when Alex invites him to stick around he declines. He’s determined to actually go through with it this time, and if he leaves maybe he can gather his wits about him.

He’s killing time in a nearby strip mall when Peggy calls to let him know Alex is nearly done. He walks back into the shop, the time away having done wonders for his resolve, and strides confidently to the back where Alex is finishing up.

And that resolve swifty counts for nothing when he catches sight of Alex bent over the engine, coveralls half undone and sweat trickling down his neck into the white tank he wears underneath. After a day of work it’s streaked with grime, but shows off the modest muscles of his biceps so well George can scarcely notice. He stands there dumbstruck for a moment or two before Alex notices his presence.

“Oh, hey George! I’ve just about taken care of your sabotage problem. Those guys really went to town on poor Nelson, you might want to wear a flak jacket or bring a knife to your next meeting with them.”

George is brought out of his reverie at this, and he’s glad he manages to laugh at the joke without sounding as hysterical as he suddenly feels. He high tails it out of there, convinced he’s barely capable of a normal interaction at this point, let alone one where he convinces that gorgeous man to go on a date with him.

Maybe if he dents the steering wheel bashing his head against it he can go back again.

* * *

George returns home to find Lafayette has taken up residence in his kitchen. “You know, when I gave you a key for emergencies this isn’t quite what I had in mind.”

“I see no greater emergency than making sure my greatest friend gets laid. Or at least gets a date. How did it go?” Lafayette asks him, clearly excited for the story.

“Well…” George trails off.

“You didn’t!”

“Don’t give me that look, you weren’t there to see him. He was bent over the car, sweaty and with his coveralls half undone. It’s a little rude to ask someone out when you’re trying to conceal a massive erection alright?”

“Massive huh? Aren’t we modest.”

George glares at him. “You know what I mean.”

A brief silence passes between them, George too lost in his own thoughts to see the scrutinizing look his friend is giving him.

“Christ, I am amazed you didn’t crash the thing on your way home with how hard you’re thinking about his ass. Pun intended.”

George rolls his eyes at this, “I know, I know. It’s pathetic and maybe more than a little creepy, but I was  **not** prepared for that.”

Lafayette signs tolerantly at this. “You’re overthinking this George. Just go in there and ask if he wants to get a drink sometime.”

“I just...can’t alright? I know I’m being ridiculous here, but to just show up out of the blue and walk in there and ask him is too much for me right now. I’ve never felt this out of my depth in my life, and I know it’s absurd given my accomplishments, but there is something about him that renders me completely unable to act like a rational human being.” George ends his rant by sitting heavily on one of his kitchen chairs, suddenly worn out.

Lafayette claps a friendly hand onto his shoulder. “The things I do for you my friend. I swear, I coddle you more than my own children. Hand me those pliers.”

George does so, and as soon as the tool is in his hand Lafayette strides with purpose towards the garage. “What are you doing?” George yells to his retreating back.

“Giving you one last excuse to go over there.”

* * *

This time Alex seems markedly less thrilled to see him, bordering on wary. “How’s the least mechanically sound McLaren in the county doing today?”

George tries to push through despite the shift in tone between them, “I don’t know what’s happening exactly, but it’s making a weird sound and overheating.”

Alex nods at this, not making eye contact, “Alright, bring it around back.”

It isn’t until he’s driving around that George realizes it’s the first time Alex has referred to the car as ‘it’ instead of ‘he’. The change shouldn’t shake him up as much as it does, but he pulls into the bay with a feeling of dread building in his stomach. As Alex pokes around the engine, their conversation isn’t nearly as free and easy-going as before, the mechanic offering stilted replies to George’s attempts at chatting. Alex interrupts him in the middle of his latest query, “Oh I see what happened. You’ve just had a hose come loose. Should be good as new now.”

George is thrown off by the brusqueness of the comment. What happened in the last day to change how at ease their interactions had been before? He tries to keep his voice level as he replies, “Oh, great. So, what do I owe you?”

“Please, that took ten minutes and a pair of pliers, you really don’t have to pay me.”

“I insist!” George rushes to reply, “It took how many years of school and experience for it to take you ten minutes to fix it. That time, if nothing else, is worth something.”

“I appreciate the sentiment but I’m serious, I won’t accept your money.” Alex, still avoiding eye contact, begins moving around the shop setting things to rights, “Now, I’ve got a bunch of closing  duties to see to, so could you please stop pushing the issue?”

George recoils at the harshness of his tone at the end. He takes a step towards Nelson, offering a quiet, “Of course, I’m sorry I took up more of your time.” as he climbs in.

His phone buzzes with repeated text messages all the way home. He ignores them as long as possible, until Lafayette gives up and actually calls him. Knowing there’s only so long he can ignore the pushy frenchman, he answers.

“You had better be ignoring me because you’ve got a beautiful mechanic underneath you.”

George sighs into the phone, trying to figure out how to explain his latest failure.

“Oh you have  **got** to be kidding me! Again? That’s enough George, either you march yourself in there tomorrow and just say something, or you drop this and move on.” 

“You’re right,” George concedes, “I think he’s had enough of it too. Time to man up.”

Lafayette chuckles at this, “You’re already decidedly a man, and you let everyone know with that dick extension you call a car.”

* * *

George returns to the fateful shop the next day. It’s quieter than usual this early, but Alex is still hanging around the shop. He gives George another wary look when he enters, but acquiesces when he asks to speak to him a moment alone. He’s led back to an employee lounge, and Alex closes the door behind them.

George wastes no time getting to the point. “I’m sorry if my behaviour lately has taken a turn for the...inappropriate. You seemed pretty uncomfortable yesterday and it was never my intention to make you feel that way, and I owe you an explanation. I’ve been doing a terrible job at working up the nerve to ask you something, and this has gone on way too long so-”

“I don’t want you to be my sugar daddy!” Alex cuts in desperately before he can finish.

In other circumstances he’s sure his double take would be comical. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Look, I’m not the judgemental type,” Alex continues, “but it’s just not something I‘m into. You’ve been very smooth about going about it, don’t feel like you just shocked me and dropped a bomb here. But I have no interest in that type of relationship.”

“Hold on a second, back up.” George raises a hand between them and cuts in before Alex can go any further, “What do you mean I’ve been smooth?”

Alex looks at him disbelievingly, “You roll up in a three hundred thousand dollar car. The first time it was really broken, but every other time you’ve come back with a really obvious show of wealth and flimsy excuses to pay me to look after it.”

“That’s not what this was about I swear!”

“No one’s car breaks down this much George! Especially not a god damn supercar!” Alex hollers, getting more agitated by the minute.

“I know!” George shouts back, equally exasperated, “I’ve just been finding reasons to come back until I worked up the courage to actually ask you out!”

This renders Alex speechless for a second, before he lets out an disbelieving “You’re kidding.”

“I know, it’s pathetic, and what am I even doing trying to ask you out in the first place? I’m way too old to be going after you, and on top of that I’m definitely too old to be coming up with schemes to try and do it,” he’s rambling now, but he can’t seem to stop the flow of words spilling from his mouth, “not to mention how ludicrous it is to be coming out in your forties to begin with, the whole bar scene is  **not** meant for men my age, and then there was just you and you’re smart as hell and handsome and-”

“Yeah okay, so where are we going?”

“...Excuse me?”

“You’ve been trying to ask me out, so where are we going? Can I ride in the car? Cause I really wanna ride in the car.”

George gives him an incredulous look, brain slowly catching up to him. When it does, he’s struck by embarrassment again, “Oh. Uh, so this is going to sound stupid but-”

“Did you not actually plan that far ahead?” Alex cuts him off, eyebrows raised.

“That is correct.”

Alex shakes his head fondly, grinning at the floor before looking up and levelling him with an amused smirk, “Alright I’ll take pity on you this time, but for our second date you better have your shit together. And I get to ride in the car both times.”

George smiles back at him, the weight he’s been carrying around for weeks suddenly lifted from his shoulders. “I think that can be arranged.”

* * *

George picks Alex up in the car as promised. As much as he enjoyed the oily coveralls look, Alex cleaned up for a date is something else. They go for dinner at a small hole in the wall place that Alex claims has the best alfredo you’ll ever find, and George is not inclined to disagree. They’re driving back through a more-or-less deserted part of the city, enjoying a comfortable silence when Alex beckons him to pull over into an empty parking lot.

“Is everything alright?” George asks as he does so.

“Yeah I just can’t resist the appeal of road head, but no way in hell am I going to risk you crashing this beautiful machine. He’s been through enough.”

George balks at this, completely unable to form words in the face of Alex’s blunt request. 

Alex’s confidence withers as the silence goes on, “We don’t have to! I mean, I know it’s a little trashy putting out on the first date and all, but I figured with all the time you spent in my shop we could move things along a little. If not, that’s fine, I won’t be offended.”

The rushed attempt at placating him snaps George out of his frozen state. “No, I don’t think you’re trashy at all, you just took me by surprise. If you really want to I’m not about to complain.”

With that, Alex unbuckles his seatbelt and leans over him, reaching over to recline the seat. That taken care of, he uses that hand to steer George into a kiss. He can scarcely breathe, opting to follow Alex’s lead rather than waste brain power. They stay like that for a while, despite how uncomfortable it must be leaning over like that for Alex, something George greatly appreciates. Before long their kisses grow heated though, and as much as he is able Alex runs his hand up and down George’s sides, sending little thrills up his spine. George feels the wandering hand slowly make its way to the bulge in his pants, groaning when it finally makes contact, kneading him through the fabric. Alex pulls back at that and smiles, obviously pleased with himself. He then wastes no time freeing George’s cock from his pants, quickly lowering himself to lap at the head that is already dripping precome. 

It’s all George can do to just sit there and hold on, trying his hardest not to thrust into the warm heat steadily enveloping him. He naively thought once you experienced one blowjob there wasn’t a whole lot that could surprise you. How wrong he was. The scratch of Alex’s goatee against him as he mouths along George’s cock is absolutely unreal, and he can’t stop the full out groan it elicits. This just spurs Alex on more, and perhaps remembering their less than private location he starts sucking in earnest, bobbing his head quickly as he goes. George gets a little lost in the sensations, but nearly chokes on his own tongue when he feels Alex take him in fully, the tip of his cock nudging the back of Alex’s throat. He barely manages to get out a warning before he comes, Alex swallowing gleefully.

When he’s done, Alex leans back over into his seat, more than a little breathless. “Sorry, that was less than ideal with the gearshift digging into my stomach. I’m much better on my knees, I promise.”

George groans, sitting up and bringing his forehead down onto the steering wheel. Alex is going to be the death of him. Judging by the shit-eating grin he’s currently wearing, he’s more than aware of that fact.

George gives him a predatory leer in return. He did always love a challenge. Leaning over the gearshift that hardly seemed to give Alex any real trouble, he slowly runs a hand down Alex’s chest, stopping teasingly above his belt. He knows he has a lot to learn, but the shaky breaths coming from the man beside him paired with the glazed over look he’s wearing spur him on. 

He’s got a lot of time to make up for here. Alex looks more than willing to indulge him.


End file.
